Batman Beyond: With a Hint of Yoru
by Black Cat Angel
Summary: Meet Merrill. Not just your average emo dude. He's got some fight in him. What if he's Terry's (A.K.A. Batman) partner in crime? How can Merrill balance his school life and his butt-kicking life? If you want to know what he looks like, look at the cover image. I drew it and I am proud of it. Enjoy.:-)
1. Along Came a Bat

Chapter 1: Along Came a Bat

Hi, my name is Merr. No, it is not short for Merick or Merry; it's short for Merrill. Merrill Damian Johnson. My father told me it was my mother who named me. Apparently, it can be both a girl's and a boy's name. Dad told me my name means "of the bright sea" in Old English. He told me of how both my parents were reading a translation dictionary of Old English. When she came across Merrill, she instantly said she wanted one of her children to be name Merrill. I guess it meant a lot to her.

I never knew my mom. She died of extreme exhaustion and dehydration. In her last dying breath, she said Merrill, my name. Back then, when I was little, I thought it was my fault Mom died. My two older sisters tried to console me. I gave them a reassured smile; deep down, it didn't help.

But that's not the point. What's important is the fact that I'm hiding Batman, the Batman, in my closet.

I guess you want to know the whole story.

Well, it's like this...

It all started with a phone call...

**_Flashback_**

"_MERRILL_ _DAMIAN_ _JOHNSON_! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Uh oh. I'm in trouble. Not only did he used the tone, but he said my full name. When a parent yells your full name, it's never a good thing. Ever.

I came out of my room wearing a loose, black tank top and a pair of baggy, silk black pajama pants. I brushed my bare feet against the velvet carpet looking a bit innocent at whatever incident I may have caused again.

I looked up at my father's face. He had light skin and neck-length light brown hair. He wore a long-sleeved, white buttoned shirt with some of the buttons came off revealing some of his chest and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows; a pair black dress suit pants; and he still wore his black business shoes.

My dad worked at Wayne-Powers as a finance committee. His job is to keep an eye on the company's money. Basically, he keeps track of all the bills from his job and ours times two. Wow, that's tiring. He must had brought his work home again and judging from the look of anger and disappointment in his green eyes he got a call from my school... again.

"I've got a call from your principal. You've went through another meaningless fight at a new school, no less! It's been a week since you've been transferred!"

Actually, if you don't count the weekends it's technically five days. New personal record.

You see, before now I was an easy target for bullies. It's been that way since preschool, kindergarten, along with first, second, third, and forth grade. Not just about my appearance, but the fact I was into gymnastics.

That's right. I was a gymnast. A damn good one, last I check.

One day, in fifth grade, a guy called Big Joey, along with his friends, picked on me saying I must be a girl inside; I was weak; I was a hermaphrodite. I couldn't remember what happened. One moment, I was being used as Joey's shoving toy; the next thing I knew, he was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was seeping through his fingers like the Hoover Dam was leaking. I didn't understand how it happened. Between me and Joey, Joey was more bigger, older, and stronger than me. He was in the seventh grade, for crying out loud; two grades ahead of me! The next day, a student from my Math class expressed how much he was in awe when he saw how I punched a seventh grader. He told me how my eyes were so scary that I scared Joey's boy posse. I came to a conclusion on that day, I snapped. My rage came from being welled up inside me all this time. I finally found my assertive side.

So when someone decide to cross my line, I let them have it.

Two years later, I quit being a gymnast and my coach was not impressed. I won the gymnastic championship four years straight. I didn't want to continue on with the fifth. I reminisced about my time there. I was seven years old when I became a gymnast; however, I quit at age 11. I liked it, but somehow I felt like I'm not going to go far in my destiny by being a champion.

I shook my head. I forgot I was in trouble again.

"And I had a good excuse this time!" I retorted, "The head jock shoved me on purpose! On purpose! And, as an added bonus, he called me a freak!"

"You gave him a black-eye..." my father mumbled.

"That was for the name-calling."

"...and sucker-punched him in his abdomen..."

I tilted my head in thought. "I don't know what you said, but I'm pretty sure I've got his stomach." I shook my head. "Anyway, that was for everything else."

My father massaged the bridge of his nose. He's really annoyed today.

He sighed. "I've had it. You are irresponsible of your temper. You are turning seventeen, for Pete's sake! Yet, you continue to act like you're seven!"

"How would you feel when people look at you and judge you because you're not like everyone else?!"

"This is not how your mother wanted you to become!"

I cringed. He doing the mother speech again. Honestly, I think he is more talking about himself than mom. He has always praise my sisters, Lauren and Kelly.

Lauren (the oldest) became a well-known lawyer. A pretty good one in Gotham City. Only problem is her douche of a boyfriend. His name is Steven. The guy loses more jobs than a retired pimp loses his harlots. I don't get what she sees in that guy! He's using her! But does she listen? No. Not from anyone, especially from me.

Kelly (middle child) is a successful brain surgeon; got a bachelor's degree from Gotham University. She's the best in her line of work, too; unfortunately, she's very superstitious. On her first surgery, she accidently wore different pair of socks. She was so nervous she almost panic on the spot. Later on, the surgery was a success. From that day on, she made sure she wears the same pair of socks like before and wears a four-leaf clover charm necklace for luck. Sometimes I worry about her.

It's a good thing there are people like those out there: both lovesick lawyers and superstitious brain surgeons. Way to go, Dad.

"Mom would've stood up for herself! She wouldn't let anyone walk over her like a worn-out carpet!"

"Your mother would've done the situation in a different manner." He covered his face with his right hand. "Why can't you be more like your sisters."

That felt like my own father stabbed me with a kitchen knife in my heart. Every time, every single time we argue he brings up my sisters. How great they are; how talented they are; how wonderful they are!

I get it! Compare to them, I'm the runt of the litter. An outcast. A nobody.

I bit my lower lip. "You're right... I'm nothing like my sisters... I'm not one of your greatest accomplishments. What I am is a failure."

Dad looked up at me with shock-filled eyes. Before he can say anything, I ran straight to my room and locked the door behind me. I didn't hear my father calling my name. He must be too shock to even utter a word. I looked up at my candlelit room.

Before Dad could utter my name, I was reading a nice book called "Book of Scary Stories" on my bed with the lights out and having those automatic candles turn on. I thought reading like this would be thrilling for effects. My bed, with soft black sheets and fluffy pillows, was on the west side of the room straight against the left wall. Below it is the one door closet. Small, but good place for my clothes and shoes. On the east wall, is my black dresser drawer with six drawers. An oval mirror hung a few inches above it. And straight ahead is a two door glass leading to a small balcony.

I walked to my dresser where there are some picture frames. I picked up a light brown one which has a picture of a smiling woman. She has long black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and pale skin. It was my mother. I looked at myself in the mirror. Beside the short, eye-covering, emo-style hair, I have the same features as my mom except...

I pulled the long piece (the one covering my right eye) of my hair and drew it to the side. The one thing I have from my dad: his green eye. That's why everyone calls me freak (along with my appearance). It is mostly because of this one little thing on my face.

I sighed. Why am I so different?

A noise broke my train of thought. It came from outside on the balcony. The sound made me jumped releasing my hold on my bang. I quietly went to my closet and opened the door. I grabbed the first thing I can get my hand on, which happens to be an umbrella. I tiptoed for the balcony door. I can see the dark form on the floor. I grabbed the doorknob while my other hand raised the umbrella ready to strike the intruder.

I yanked the door open ready to strike the newcomer. What I did not expect is the same newcomer lying unconscious beside my feet. I raised an eyebrow. I poked the stranger from the tip of my umbrella. I know it sounded ridiculous, but I was making sure no one was leaving me a dead body. If I wanted a corpse, I would've put it in my list to Santa Claus or my birthday list.

I heard a grunt from the body. Now that I get a good look up close I can tell it is a male. The outfit he's wearing is a suit, a costume actually. An electronic one judging from most of the outer layer being torn. A moan soon came after. My curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know who this stranger is.

I reached out a hand. At first, I hesitated for fear of being shock and being mistaken as a threat. I took a deep breath and carefully turned the suited man around. The front is worse from the back. There were more ripped fabric on the arms, legs, and one on his face. I looked at the chest where a long cut was overlaying a red insignia. I moved my hand on the torn fabric. I flipped it up to see a red bat... Hold on. There a guy wearing a dark costume, has a gray belt which might be a utility belt(if I'm right), and an insignia of a bat on his chest.

...

...

I felt my eyes widened.

**OMIGOD**!

This dude, lying unconscious on my floor in my room, is Batman!

But-! How-! When-! Why-! Better yet, what am I going to do?!

Hospital? No, bad idea. They might take off his mask to see if he is suffering from concussion.

Police? Tch. Yeah right. They can barely hold on to crooks.

Parents? Heck, I just met him!

Dad? As if! He'll mistake him as a thief. Gotham City isn't always unicorns and rainbows. There's something happening in every corner.

Okay. I guess I have to take care of him until he gets back on his feet. Easy job, right?

Knock, _knock_.

"Merrill, are you alright?"

Crap! I was just telling myself going to Dad was a big N-O. Think, Merrill. Think. Closet, of course!

I picked up Batman and dragged him to my one-doorway closet. Geez, this guy is heavier than I thought. What kind of food does he eat? Another knock appeared again. I better hurry before he gets impatient. I pushed the Dark Knight in the already opened closet. Time and again he kept sliding down. I used all my limps to keep his whole body in one area. After pushing him far enough, I shut the door swiftly. I hope when Batman wakes up he doesn't mind yoga.

"Come in", I said.

My dad entered holding a small black box. He looked at me with a questionable gaze.

**End** **of** **Flashback**

"Why are you breathing erratically?"

Man, I'm so screwed!

God, if you can hear me, please don't let my father know I'm hiding Gotham's Dark Knight in my closet.

End of Chapter 1


	2. Night With a Bat

**Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait. It took nearly a month to finish this chapter. Not bad if I do say so myself. I want to thank ****_shejams_**** for being the first reviewer and my girl, ****_TTY7_****, for being supportive and reviewing. You both rock! Well, enjoy this next chapter of ****_Batman Beyond: With a Hint of Yoru_****.**

**BTW, I only owned OCs like Merrill and his family; I do not own Batman Beyond.**

* * *

**Last time:**

Merrill D. Johnson found Batman lying unconscious outside on his balcony. Deciding on what to do with him, Mr. Johnson knocked on his son's door. Merrill dragged the injured hero to his closet and closed the door. Is his dad going to find out his son's skeleton (or rather bat) in his closet? Enjoy yourself with _Batman Beyond: With a Hint of Yoru_!

Chapter 2: Night with the Bat

"Are you alright, Merrill?" my dad asked. "You're breathing erratically, have you been exercising? And why are you trying to cover up your closet with your body?"

Dad's getting more suspicious by the second. What am I going to tell him? I'm not best when it comes to lying; however, I do know how to cover my tracks.

"Well", I began, "I was so mad that I took all my clothes from the drawers and buried my things in my closet take my mind off of our argument. It's a mess in there." I smiled sheepishly at him. He only raised an eyebrow.

"And the balcony?"

Oh... I forgot about shutting the balcony door behind me.

"I needed some fresh air", I said automatically.

He sighed. He went to my balcony doors and closed them. "You know it's not safe to leave them open, right? Anyone can get in here."

You don't know how much I agree with you there.

I pushed myself off the closet. I rubbed the nape of my neck nervously hoping my dad wouldn't ask and/or inspect my closet; instead, he sat down on my bed and patted on the mattress telling me to sit right next to him.

I shuffled my way to him still trying to mask my fear of him finding out my secret. I sat down right next to him. An awkward silence surrounded us. I despised the tension right now, it made it even harder to stay calm.

I glanced to see Dad caressing the small box affectionately with his thumb. I can tell by his blank stare he's deep in thought. He must be rethinking of our argument earlier. What I didn't understand is what inside that box he had meant something.

"Merrill." I heard my name being called from my fathers voice. I turned my head fully but he hadn't look at me.

Honestly, I wanted to take back what I said earlier. I could've handle my situation with the jock better; I mean, I could've ignore him. Dad's right, I am irresponsible of my temper.

"Dad", I began, "I'm-"

"I'm sorry."

My eyes widened. He apologized to me first, why? I'm at fault here, not him. Dad was being Dad; he's being the responsible parent he's supposed to be. I do wonder, though.

"...for what", I hesitated for a moment until I composed myself, "Dad."

"I'm sorry for not being there... for you... You are my son... my only son... there are times when I forget who you are..." He shook his head. "My God... you're so much like her..."

I closed my eye. "...I'm not Mom..." I felt my chest tightening. I'm the only one who hadn't seen her... It's not fair!

"I know you aren't ; you have her spirit, though."

When I think back, Dad hardly talked about her. Why now? I let him continue without interrupting him.

"She was not only beautiful, she was headstrong; confident; and, bold. Sometimes a little too bold. There's this one time she went to my house on a rainy day without an umbrella. As I was about to get her a towel, she undressed herself right-"

"**_DAD_**!" I felt my face heating up from embarrassment. If I wanted to imagine Mom with me, it's not going to be her in her birthday suit.

My father laughed at my reaction. "I'm sorry", he said through his chuckles, "but... it's true." He then went back to being serious. His eyes landed on the box in his hand. "I was going to give this to you on your birthday, but I believe now is better than later." He gave me the box.

I raised an eyebrow. He looked at me with care and expectation. My gaze went to the small box in my hand. I opened it and blinked at the small trinket inside. It was a silver necklace with a pendant at the center. The pendant had an oval-shaped appearance with a ruby at top and sapphire at the bottom. I picked up the small jewelry delicately. I laid the box on the bed while focusing on the necklace. The pendant itself was actually a locket. I opened it.

I gasped silently. "...Mom..." I breathed. Inside was a photo of my mother wearing a black leather jacket, a white top, and tight blue jeans. Mom smiled back at me with a smug grin with amusement eyes.

"The locket was your mother's", I heard Dad say, "and the picture was mine. I had it back at high school. We were two different characters from two different worlds."

"What changed?" I asked.

"Our friendship."I blinked. "Back then, we were the opposite of each other. Your mother, a fighter; me-"

"-a geek?"

Dad gave me an annoy glare. "I preferred the term intellectual."

"Ah..."

"You see, your mother used to be part of a gang called the Outcasts. It's a group where young teenagers who either ran away from home or been abandoned by their family joined together and protect one another. Your mother, Yukina Kuromi, was a part of their group. She came from Japan with nothing but the clothes on her back; a purebred fighter. With the right skills, she would've gone far. She was like the mother wolf protecting her pups.

"I was on my way to a scholarship. Even though my parents divorced, it didn't stop me from moving forward. I was like a robot. No heart but a purpose. I always stick to my studies. I tried my best to be the best. Being successful in every task that comes in my way. Apparently, my physical form was, and still is, my down fault. You know, I have the brain not the muscle; so, gym class was never my forte. It was one of the things why I despised those you are well trained and athletic, like your mother.

"We were two different people from two different worlds. One day, we had to do a project where we get to know about the other. Destiny would have it your mother and I became partners. I wasn't use to having friends and neither was your mother. In order to pass, we had to grin and bare it. Time passed and we had fun together; our bitterness turned into friendship. After the project, we decided to stay friends as much as we can. We had each other's back. I helped her on her studies as she helped me through my hard times with my parents being divorced (not to mention countless days exercising). We became so close our friendship turned into compassion.

"After our college graduation, I proposed to her and then she tackled me. I remembered seeing more stars in her eyes than the sky itself. Our wedding was a small ceremony with not many people. A year later, we got a beautiful baby girl with brown hair and green eyes; your mother named her Lauren. Three years later, another beautiful baby girl arrived with brown hair and blue eyes; I named her Kelly. Six years later, you came along-"

"-and that's when Mom died..." I looked downward avoiding my dad's eyes.

"Merrill", he breathed. He took the necklace from my hand. "You are not at fault here; you are no mistake. You are a piece of your mother's heart and soul." He clipped the chain around my neck. "Whenever you are in a situation, remember you are not alone. Me, your sisters, and now your mother. You're never alone."

I smiled. "Thanks Dad." We hugged. For a single parent, he's doing a good job. I wanted this moment to last for a long time...

A groan interrupted the silence. Oh, crap! I forgot I was hiding Batman... in my closet!

"Did you hear that-?"

"-Hear what?" Don't freak out, Merr. Play it cool.

"I could've sworn I heard something..."

Since I'm more near to the closet I can hear it more clearly than my father. Another groan came. I groaned loudly to overlay the original and placed a hand on my stomach.

"I think I have a stomachache", I said a bit too quickly.

My father went to his over caring mode. "Are you alright? Do you need a painkiller-? Wait- You might need something to eat... No, a hospital! That is what you need!"

"**_Dad!_** I have stomachache; I'm not dying! Calm down. I just need some sleep." A third groan came, and it's not from me.

"Shh... I think someone's in your closet", Dad whispered. He picked up my umbrella (somehow I didn't think of putting it away) and silently walked to my closet.

I'm sweating... I think the temperature's increasing... Please, God... Don't let Dad find Batman...

I closed my eyes tightly. I heard the door opened. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Dad, I can explain!" I yelled.

"I thought you said your closet was a mess."

...Huh...?

I looked at my opened closet. He's right... it's clean... and empty... no mask hero in sight... Please tell me I'm not hallucinating... or asleep...

I gave myself a tiny pinch on my left arm. Ouch. Nope, I'm awake.

"Right..." I began. "I guess I was so frustrated I organized my closet. You know how much of a clean freak I am." I giggled girlishly. Note to self: work on giggle.

"...Right... like how you enjoy doing chores around the house, which reminds me-"

I quickly faked a yawn. "Man, am I tired. I think I'm going to bed."

He gave me my umbrella back. "What about your stomachache-?"

"Like I said, just need some shut-eye." I gently pushed my dad out the door. "I'm sure by tomorrow I'll be back to my good ol' regular self."

He looked uncertain; but he chose not to ask anymore. "All right, if you need me-"

"-you'll be in your studies", I said. "Love-"

"-you." And that's when I closed the door in his face.

I knew it was rude, but I got important matters to do. Like the fact that a guy who is a head and a half taller than me disappeared. I waited until my father's footsteps were far away from my bedroom.

I tossed the umbrella aside and went to my closet. Still opened, no Batman. I know I hid a body in there. There's no way out unless you can transform into a mouse. Maybe he pulled a Houdini on me.

A spark flared out of nowhere. I narrowed my eyes concentrating on what I saw. An image of black came and gone as quick as a flash.

I went closer to the closet's inside. Another spark flared. I reached out to the spark with my hand, expecting an electric shock passing through my finger tip. Unfortunately, I felt something solid and moving. Suddenly, the entire image of Batman appeared in the same strange yoga position I left him. His body was upside down facing front, legs bended, and one arm was behind him as the other was used as a cushion for his head.

He looked up at me with a weak smile. "Sure was a close call, huh?"

I bent down to his level. "How long were you conscious?"

"The part where your ol' man was telling his love story. Kind of romantic, in a way..."

"By the way, you ruined a great family moment", I retorted.

He frowned. I couldn't take him seriously when his frown looked more of a smile. "Excuse me for being in pain", the masked hero replied sarcastically. "Aren't you going to help me get out of here?"

Actually, I never thought Batman would wake up. 'Thought it might be one of those quiet nights. I guess not.

After minutes of playing "Twister-The Closet Edition", I put Batman's arm around my shoulder and helped him walked to my bed. Then, I laid him gently on my sheets. I let his head rest against the pillows. Next, I brought his legs up unto the mattress gently. He winced from the pain. Must've been some fight he went through.

I went under my bed to grab my emergency first-aid kit. Hey, it helps to be prepare. I looked at him expecting he get the message.

He narrowed his eyes. He got it. "No way."

"You're injured, how else am I going to take care of you?" I asked.

"I'm not that bad", he said until he winced when he tried to sit up. I pushed him down.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that through your teeth." I went to my closet and grabbed something from the bottom. "I want you to strip."

"Sorry, kid, but I don't swing that way."

I felt my eyebrow twitch. For some reason, I wanted to break him even if he is famous. Instead, I took a deep breath and stood up. I went up to Batman with the thing in my hand.

"If you're uncomfortable about revealing your identity, you can wear this mask", I said tossing a mask at him. The mask was the face of a hairy Wolf man. A mask you can get at any cheap costume store.

Batman looked at the mask in disgust. Then, he looked back at me and said, "You're joking, right?"

"As a superhero, your identity is really important to you", I explained. "I have only one mask and, as curious as I am, I don't want to see whose Gotham's hero in his boxers." To be honest, I was hoping to take a quick peek while Sleeping Batguy naps. Apparently, I can't do that if he's awake. I do have boundaries. Curse you, boundaries.

I looked at him. "I'm going to need you to help me with your weight. You're very heavy."

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I said 'you're heavy'; but hey", I shrugged, "if you want to call yourself fat, be my guest."

He squinted his eyes at me. I'm guessing he's glaring. I shrugged it off and helped him sit up. After, while I turned around to get my emergency sewing kit in my drawer, I heard him groan softly. When I turned around, he was wearing the hairy mask as he was holding onto his cowl.

All I want to do right now is roll on my floor, laughing hysterically. I can't take him seriously while he's wearing it. I bit my lower lip trying to contain my chuckles.

"I feel ridiculous", he muffled through the mask.

"Correction, you look ridiculous." I chuckled. A moment later, I composed myself and assisted Batman in removing his suit. Easier said than done. I don't know which was harder, pulling the bat suit off him with one hand while holding his weight of his shoulder or trying to put on a straight face all this time while bandaging his wounds. It was still an accomplishment afterward. Now he's sitting on my bed with his arms crossed, in his briefs, and still wearing the Wolf man mask. I, on the other hand, was also sitting on my bed yet I was sewing up his suit.

I know what you're thinking. How are you able to sew in your dim-litted room? Simple, my eyes are use to adjusting the darkness. It is one of my "skills" (not exactly a power just a natual thing for me). With the candles being half-lit, it's a piece of cake to me. Heck, if I could read in this lighting, then sewing isn't a problem.

As I was sewing, I took a glance at the half-naked Wolf man sitting on my bed. His chest was covered with wrap bandages and above and beneath the right shoulder blade; some wrappings around his left thigh and on his right lower leg. There are also some bruises here and there. Pretty new, in my opinion. He showed the expression "that's going to leave a mark".

I grimaced. I pricked my finger with my own needle. A dot of red expanded on my right index finger. I put the same finger to my lips and sucked the small amount of blood to relieve the slight pain on my finger. Why didn't I buy some thimbles. This would've happen if I didn't got myself distracted.

"Why is your room so dark?" Batman asked softly. "At least you can see better instead of your room looking like it hadn't seen electricity before."

I stopped sucking the iron liquid long enough to looked at him. "One, it is not that dark and I like it; and two, even if it is dark, my eyes can adjust to the darkness of my surroundings. It took many tries, but it was worth it."

"Yet you prick your finger in the dark."

"I got distracted. It's not everyday a superhero lands on my balcony." I went back completing the bat suit. I was close to finishing the stitching on the chest area where the insignia was ripped. "What happened to you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It's the least you can do. After all, I am the one who found you and bandaged you; and, as a kind-hearted person I tried to be, I'm sewing your suit as an added bonus. It is not like I'm asking you to tell me who you are. It is enough to pique my curiosity."

"...I was outnumbered by the Jokers.."

"How can you be outnumbered by the Jokers? You're Batman, for crying out loud!"

"And that's all you're getting."

**WHAT?!** That is not fair! After all I'm risking for this is the thanks I get!

Party pooper. I smiled, seeing the Batman crapping at an active is comical.

"What's so funny?"

I continue to smile. "Nothing", I replied. I brushed my bang out of my eye and slid it behind my ear; then, I went back to sewing. I completed the chest, not my best work but it's not terrible.

It was pretty quiet between the two of us. If you listen close enough, you can hear the soft breathing through our nostrils. I figured it took me hours to complete the stitching on the batsuit. While I was examing my work, I noticed some wiring were sticking out of the renewed patches. Whoever designed this suit had to have dainty fingers and a lot of spare time on their hands.

I sighed. "I'm not a genius when it comes to wiring electronics, but it is the best I can do at restitching the outer fabric."

"It's okay", he said. "You did your best. I'll have a _friend_ of mine fix your mistake."

I glared at him. "Do you pretty or effective? And I'm not the one having his suit destroyed, for your information."

He didn't answer, instead he kept staring at me like I'm growing a second head on my growing shoulder.

"_What_", I growled.

He shook his head. "Either I'm hallucinating in this lighting or you have two different eye color."

I blinked. I nearly forgot I have one blue eye and one green eye. Nearly.

"It's not a new fashion statement with contacts, isn't it?"

I sighed as I picked up the cowl. "I was born like this. My green eye belong to my father and the blue one belong to my mother." Just talking about it depresses me. I took a deep breath and went back to work. I managed to stitch the face area in a couple minutes. Next, I reattached the cowl to the suit. I did one more overlap on the finishing stitching before folding the suit. I stretched my back to get rid of the strict knot on my spine.

I yawned. I must be late. Wonder what time it is...

"Let me see my suit for a moment." I obidiantly gave him his suit. He tapped onto the arm area then a digital clock appeared. It was 3:15 a.m. It was much later than I thought. No wonder I felt sore.

I stood up and went to my closet to grab a two spare blankets and pillow. I went over to Batman and gave him one of the spare. After, I dropped both pillow and blanket on the floor.

"What are you doing?"

I stared at him. "Getting ready to sleep. It's unhealthy to stay up late."

"I can see that. What I'm asking is what are you doing on the floor?"

"...Getting ready to sleep...?"

"On the floor? Not happening."

"It's my decision to make, not yours", I retorted. "You need to be comfortable to heal your body. While it is courteous of you to think of my well-being, why not let someone think of yours?"

"I have a _friend_", he explained.

"Yes, I know; and you are far away from this "_friend_" of yours even if it is a walk away", I simplified.

"You don't have to do this..."

"But I want to", I said as I took out my necklace placing it back in the small box, and I put the same box on my drawer's counter. I went over to my guest and made him comfortable. When I was finished laying him down, I pulled the blanket over him.

"Good night", I said.

I made my bed on the floor, covered myself in my blanket, and laid my head on my pillow. I waited for a while to let myself drift away in my sleep.I fell in my inner world of my mind.

I had a dream. I saw robbers stealing credicts from the bank. Batman was there; however, they had the upper hand. Paralized him with an electric stun gun. While he was in peril, I jumped in and kicked their asses! I helped Batman up.

As I helped him up, he said, "It's a good thing I had someone like you around."

"No problem", I said. I looked at my reflection at a convenience stores. My eyes widened. I was dressed as Robin.

I jolted up from my bed. Bed, what? How did I get here? Wait... Batman! Where is he? I looked around the room. No sign of him. He better not pull another Houdini on me or else when I see him again I'm going to give him a bruise he can remember.

I saw a piece of paper right next to the box where my mother's necklace was held. I walked over to it and picked it up. Inside was a note:

_Merrill,_

_Thanks again for risking yourself to take care of me. That took guts. Word of advice: try getting another mask. The one you let me use was itchy. You're okay for a weird, emo kid._

_Until the next time we meet,_

_Batman_

Wow... Hold on... Did he call me kid? Seriously!

A knock distracted me from my inner ranting.

"Yes, dad", I called.

"Just making sure you're awake. Don't want my son to be late for school."

School? I thought I was suspended.

**End of chapter 2 **


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